Deception is Thy Name
by vicky271
Summary: A mass murderer tied to murders in Israel is lose in Washington. Tony is forced to work with Israel Mossad officer Rashid in a joint undercover investigation to find the culprit. When Ziva turns up in the apartment, Tony has more questions than answers. Tiva and Crime story. Takes place two years after Season 10. *STORY UNDER CONSTRUCTION*
1. Prologue: The Beginning of Forever

**Authors Note:** I'm a HUGE Tiva fan, i'm not going to begin to describe how much I obsess over that couple. *SPOILERS* So when I got to the beginning of Season 11 and watched Ziva's last scene, I cried...and I still cry :'( (seriously, broken heart right here!) I suck at writing and stories, but i'm attempting one so don't hate me if the characterization is not perfect or if the dialogue is off. Normally my stories are told from one perspective, but I've decided to try two for this story. Most stories I've read that are worth reading are told from third person all knowing, so this shouldn't be too bad. Since this is the prologue, I decided that it would be shorter. But I'm planning on updating only once a week (maybe). The ENTIRE story has been loosely planned, so...yeah it should be good.

**Disclaimer:** I'm not a fan of repeating things so I'm saying this once for the ENTIRE store. I herebye state that I do not own anything related to NCIS; whether its characters, plot, etc.

**The Story:** Its been two years since Tony did the hardest 180 of his life in Israel, but time still hasn't removed Ziva from his heart. Things grow complicated when she appears in Washington with her fiance. With unanswered questions, a very complicated case and the entire NCIS team to back him up, will Tony and Ziva ever have a closure to the relationship they deserve?

**[DECEPTION IS THY NAME]  
><strong>**Prologue - The Beginning of Forever**

******Tony**

It had been the hardest one eighty of his life.

No moment could compare to Tony backing away from Ziva in Israel. Walking away possibly forever from the one woman who had captured his heart. The facial expression she held as she watched him get farther and farther away from her would be a permanent image in his mind. His heart shattered, and yet he forced a smile. But the smile only shattered his heart more. He wanted to stop where he was, stop walking away from the best thing in his life. Stare at her for eternity and bring a smile to her face. Swoop in and drag her towards the plane. Kiss her forever. Live a life with her in Washington.

Be with her. But she wouldn't allow. She was funny that way.

"I have to do this alone," She had said several minutes ago, "I have to let go of everything. Or I will be," Ziva struggled to hold back her tears, holding the e of the last word longer than normal, "back to where I started." Her voices wavers a little. But all he could do was listen, stand there and watch as she poured out her feelings, attempting to give her last statement...her parting words to the friends she had known for eight years. Like the last words of a dying man in Shakespeare. Was falling in love really like this? Painfully watching as the person he loved gave up everything, while he would walk back into his everyday routine and continue to act normal? As if the last eight years had never happened? No. He couldn't do that. But he had to do that. For her. Its what she wanted.

Tony thought back to what happened after he had found Ziva. When she didn't want to be found, of course HE would find her. Tony knew her better than anyone else. And why shouldn't he? They had been through a lot, more than other partners. And he knew it. She knew it. When he saw her, her eyes weren't as he thought they would be. Rather than being shocked at seeing him, she looked at him her mouth open slightly and her eyes wide. But it took only a few moments before her mouth shut and her eyes narrowed. Ziva had started grinding her teeth and let out a loud sigh. She was annoyed. He knew it. But who cared...he had found her; he had completed a part of his mission.

But he failed to complete the second half. He had boarded the plane alone.

"...sir?"

Tony's head snaps up. He had been staring at the back of the seat in front of him for too long, so long that for a moment he had forgotten where he was. He forces another smile, one too many for his liking in one evening,"What?"

Standing in the aisle beside him was a tall, blond haired woman with a petite figure. She extends her arm out, her hand underneath a round platter with several clean cups. Inside those cups is a yellow, fizzy liquid, "Champagne?"

It was tempting, his taste buds immediately begin to crave the taste of the drink, "No thank you," And he denies it. The moment those words come out of his mouth he mentally kicks himself. He should have taken it, he needed it right now. He goes to say something to the lady as she walks by and offers the person in front of him a glass, but stops himself. As sudden as the craving came, it was gone. Tony shook his head, glancing out the airplane window into the dark space outside. In the reflection images came up, maybe it was his imagination, but they were familiar images.

He saw two people standing in a bathroom, a familiar male staring at his reflection in the mirror. The second figure moves her hand so its on the counter in between his hands that are stretched on far apart on the surface, "That you had my back, " She says. There is a short pause, she looks away from his face, swallowing, "that you have always had my back. And that I was wrong to question your motives." He had noted how she tried to smoothly choke out the last sentence. Either she didn't want to say it or it was difficult...knowing her it was the second...or the first.

Then it changes. The figures stand at a dock, its dark out with only one street light; the one they stand under. They are close to each other, their arms around each other. A warmth returns to him. A familiar feeling, different that the unfamiliar one he had earlier. Earlier his heart broke, the warmth was desperation as he held her for the last time. It was worth tears. Agony. Against that warmth was a stranger. And yet he remembered. Tony's heart still broke as they embraced, when Ziva had approached and wrapped her arms around him. But that time was different. There was joy.

As familiar it was, it was like Tony was seeing these images in a new light for the first time. He chuckles at the memories. Suddenly he felt like something was ripping his heart of his chest, his smile fades as his hand brushes his left hand pant pocket; a small bulge. He frowns, struggling to get his hand into his pocket because of the tight space in between his pants and plane seat. The space was tight, but he was still able to somehow wrap his hand around the small object and pull it out to where he could look at it. Tony held it far from his face, the small object hangs from the chain around his middle finger. It was beautiful, the object was a star and it sparkled. He recognized it, Ziva never took it off. He had passed it to her...and yet somehow it was back in his pocket. It was odd for sure. But nothing happened by accident with Ziva. She wanted him to have it. Whatever the reason he couldn't argue...unless she started communicating telepathically or teleported on to the plane. With her ninja skills, it wouldn't surprise him if she was there now.

And then his eyes widen, his head suddenly turning to look at everyone behind him. He see's a few men at the back of plane; one is sleep and another watching a movie. Tony's curiosity boils, what was that guy watching? Probably a newer movie since nothing but new releases were on the airplanes. One reason he never bothered with the movies on airplanes. They weren't worth his time.

He glances out the window again, flashing back to the night he and Ziva were dumped by their dates and spent the even at work watching an old movie. It was one of those times he didn't think much about what was happening around him; what he had at the moment. It was natural, the time he spent with his partner. Of course he was wishing that he had not just sat there; instead taken advantage of the time he actually spent with her alone.

But it didn't end there. There are several instances that came to mind. The elevator after the bombing. The undercover engaged assassin mission. Los Vegas. Paris. He should have seen this coming; Tony wanted to shoot himself for his slow timing. Most instances he didn't mind jumping into bed on the night of a first date, but Ziva was different. She was…special.

Tony sighs. It was his fault; but exhaustion was beginning to set in. His eyelids heavy like lead and his head pounding. Tightening his grip around the necklace, he carefully places it back into his pocket and leans back against the airplane headrest. His mind is still clouded with memories of Ziva, not that it was a bad thing. But Tony's eyes opened, his mind didn't want to settle and so shifting positions every five seconds seems like a better alternative, "C'mon old boy," Tony murmurs to himself, "just five minutes." However Tony still couldn't shake this sudden feeling that was overwhelming him, something different. Tony hit his head against the headrest, "Well this sucks." Indeed it did.

For an hour this pattern emerged, until finally exhaustion took over and Tonys body succumbed to slumber.

**Ziva**

She did not move an inch, not after he disappeared into the plane. Or even as the plane made its slow ascent towards the sky. It been several minutes, the plane was gone...and she still couldn't move. Her arms cross over her chest and she stares up into the sky. The runway empty.

Her heart empty.

Saying goodbye would be hard, she knew this much at least. That feeling of a knife ripping through her chest was beginning to torment her...but there was no knife. No one was even close enough to her to try. And even if they were, she would sense it. Ziva could do that. She had been trained to do that by her father when she was Mossad. But no longer did she want that life. Now she was in hiding in order to escape her previous life...to follow her heart if she could manage it.

And yet something was missing.

Ziva didn't hide from her feelings, she was conscious of that, but she wasn't a fan of showing them. These last few days seemed to compromise that. Knowing very well that she would be giving up everything, including Tony...made it almost impossible to hold back the tears. Even now they were threatening to fall down her cheek. She had only cried a few times in the past in front of him, one time in the elevator. He had held her as an attempt to comfort her. Surprisingly it made her feel better. But she was no longer denying her feelings at that point. Then what had stopped her? What was different from now?

She looks down to the ground, contemplating this. Possibly it was because they were partners, and a relationship was forbidden. She knew that is what drew him to her, or she thought it was one of the reasons. Knowing Tony it would make sense, but was it the only reason? Perhaps not. And that kiss just now was the proof she needed.

Suddenly Ziva shakes her head, "Do not think about this," She says out loud, trying to compose herself. Normally it wasn't difficult, normally she wouldn't talk out loud to herself but for some reason she was doing it anyway, "A new life, you want a new life." Thats what her heart had been telling her and it was true. To get away from what she hadn't wanted, to get away from the horrible things she had done. To start new. Fresh. But had she made the right decision? She wouldn't know for another few months, when the results of her actions would sink in. When her new normal would become a reality. She was following her heart.

But was she really?


	2. Just Another Day

**Authors Note:** This chapter was posted much later than I anticipated. A lot of the story is focused around a case so I had to get it outlined first...plus when I wrote "McAbby" I hadn't planned that section of the story...actually I hadn't planned on adding that when I added it to the synopsis description. I was going to write in Bishop...but I couldn't get myself to watch a "Ziva-is-not-on-the-show-anymore" episode. So I created a new OC :P Oh, and don't forget doing research via NCIS episodes to have detailed and accurate stuff about the relationships between Tony and Ziva...or important little tidbits…or how they REALLY interact (as some fan fictions aren't accurate...mine probs. won't be, but i'm trying!) which means I wrote and rewrote...So, in short, more details surrounding the story as a whole. Just means I'm trying hard to write a good story for you...I realize some people might have a problem with Ziva talking out loud to herself in the prologue...but you have to admit, if I wrote nothing but a prologue full of reflection it would have gotten quite boring :P Thanks to those who have already started supporting my story, I won't let you down! :) Hopefully… ;)

**[DECEPTION IS THY NAME]**  
><strong>Chapter 1 - Just Another Day - Three and A Half Years Later<strong>

**Present Day - Lawyers Office**

Time had passed, and yet the last three years seem like a dream...a recurring nightmare that he didn't want to think about. But the darkness had been real. The separation had been real. The broken heart had been real. Ziva had been real.

Then Tony opened his eyes.

He is in an unfamiliar world, one he had never experienced before. The blue and white striped wallpaper hurt his eyes, but it matches the white carpet and the random gold trim on the blue Victorian couches. He had this urge to jump up and rip everything to shreds. His head hurt just looking around in his environment. He was surprised to recognize it even a little bit. His mind is blank, the past memories beginning to blur together into a incoherent mess.

What is strange is the manner everyone upholds. McGee sat on the other couch up against the far wall with his arms crossed over his chest and his gaze on the floor. He did not speak; he had not glanced at another person in the room for some time. Tony wanted so badly to go inside his mind, figure out what he was thinking, but in a way he was sure he already knew. He observes McGee, bringing his left hand up and placing it on his chin. McGee is sitting up properly, not slouching, creases on his forehead where sweat was beginning to form. It wasn't abnormal for McGee to not speak, as he could recall times in which McGee wouldn't say a lot in a day.

Abby is beside him, fixated on getting up every five seconds and pacing until she grew tired of that and sat back down again. The pattern was continuing endlessly, maybe that was what made him want to jump up and tear this room apart. How often can someone get up and pace? He didn't want to know, "Abby!" He hisses softly "stop it!"

She doesn't match his whisper, her voice overpowering, "Do you think something bad happened? Like some kind of crazy experimental torture, or maybe some sort of weird alien mind game...which I couldn't see happening given the possibility of aliens coming and landing on this planet much less existing-"

"Abby! Sit down! You're making everyone nervous." Tony didn't really care about everyone else.

McGee glares at Tony, shifting a little on the couch, "By 'everyone' you mean yourself, right?"

"Did I say that Probie?"

"No, but you were thinking it," McGee knew Tony better than most did, often catching his true meanings behind his own speeches, and calling out Tony's perverted moments.

"I was thinking of everyone," Tony gestures around the room, "all of us in our usual state of mind. Dramatically waiting for interviews to finish and hoping that a monster doesn't jump out of that room. Like aliens bursting out of the chests of innocents in the classic Alien movies," No one says anything, "with Sigourney Weaver and Michael Biehn? C'mon!"

"Tony this is serious!" Abby exclaims. She had been pacing, but stopped once Tony had finished speaking "what if something bad happened to her?"

"She can handle herself, Abby. Ziva'ss got these weird ninja skill's and crazy combat moves,"

McGee rolls his eyes.

"Do you have a problem Probie? Is my manly presence too much for you?"

Before McGee could reply the door opens, all eyes falling on to the figure as she walks into the open space beyond the doorway where everyone could see. Her brown hair in its usual ponytail compliments her white top and black pants along with the black sneakers on her feet. Tony watches her carefully as her gaze averts to the different individuals sitting in the room. He wants to know what she's thinking though he knew she would never tell.

Three years ago he didn't see himself in this room, waiting for the interrogation that would probably put every other scary interview he had been in to shame. Instead, he saw himself with another woman in his life. Heck that's not thinking far back enough. That one eighty shattered his heart land afterwards it felt like everything had no meaning. He had loved her. He had always loved her. But the co-worker forbidden relationship thing didn't help.

Their eyes met. Tony's heart skipped a beat, he tries his best to keep his breathing steady and his mind focused. Otherwise he'd go crazy and kiss her the moment she took her seat. It was funny how she could make him like that, a crazy love sick puppym committed to more than just a one night stand some random girl he picked up at a bar. Or how she cured his wandering eye, though occasionally he'd find a stunning beauty...if Ziva wasn't with him.

She came towards him, taking the seat she had left when the lawyer had come out of her office to call her for her portion of the interview Curiosity was getting the better of him, he was dying to know the details, "So, how did it go?" She didn't answer, "That bad?"

Ziva leans back against the couch, folding her hands in her lap and staring at the wall above the couch McGee and Abby sat, "It was not...that...bad," They were whispering, "they had a lot of questions."

"What kind of questions?" A stupid thing to ask, though Tony believed it to be justified. Otherwise she'd close up and never speak of what happened with the lawyer.

Instead of smirking and giving her usual 'i'm going to make you suffer' response, she met his gaze. His mind drew a blank and the desire for answers was gone. Her eyes were beautiful, not that he didn't know that before, but every time their eyes met he could feel his heart pound in his chest. It was like a spell had been casted on him by a witch, "Questions. About Rashid. Our...relationship. NCIS."

"Aren't you specific..." Tony mutters, "What did you tell them?"

"The truth."

Now it made more sense, why Ziva had been in there so long. He could remember when Ziva took forever to tell him something whether it was about her father, her younger sister, anything.

Just then the door to Tony's left opens slightly, and a head pops out, "Agent DiNozzo," He takes his eyes off of Ziva for a moment, gazing up at a middle aged woman, "I'm ready for you."

The moment of truth. What he had been waiting for, the reason he was had been sitting in the lobby for so long. Tony nods, and after glancing at Ziva once more, he gets up and follows the woman into her office. He wasn't nervous, but he wanted answers. He wanted to know what was going on exactly, why they were there. And what she wanted with all of his colleagues.

As soon as he enters the small office with bookshelves stacked on the walls, and a large window behind the desk, she shuts the door. There are two chairs in front of him, she gestures to them as she walks around her desk, "Take a seat, Agent DiNozzo."

"Its Special," Tony throws in, taking a seat in the uncomfortable chair, "Special Agent DiNozzo."

The lady follows his lead, taking a seat behind her desk and elegantly placing her right hand on top of her computer mouse, "Special...Agent DiNozzo," There is a pause for a moment, she glances at her computer screen, "do you know why you're here?"

"Because I'm incredibly good looking and charming?" Tony flashes a smile, believing this to be a great justification for a woman to get in a enclosed space with him. The lady glares, "or some other reason…"

"You were involved in several linked cases over the last year and a half connected to a serial killer from Israel," The lady smiles, clicking her computer mouse a few times with her finger and taking a second to look a the computer screen, "as the lawyer for NCIS it is my job to find out what happened. Collect as many details as possible," Tony couldn't recall a time when they had needed a NCIS lawyer, usually each person had their own when they got in trouble. He frowns, "I have questioned all your colleagues, . But I still don't have the full picture..."

Tony looks up towards the ceiling, then to his left, "This reminds me of some of those old television shows," There were so many he could think of; Perry Mason, Matlock, the good old murder mystery, "The suspect sits in the office of a very distinguished lawyer, being questioned about past events, circumstances that don't make sense-"

"Agent DiNozzo, this is very serious," The lawyer interrupts, "whether you like it or not, this isn't a television show. Its reality. And reality demands a trip back in time..."

"Oh! Back to the Future; it redefines the…" Tony stops mid-sentence, "and we shouldn't talk about that now."

The lawyer crosses her arms over her chest, leaning forward in her chair her upper body is hovering over her desk, "As I said, the full picture is important. Some pieces of the puzzle are still missing. I believe you can fill in some of the blanks."

"What can I say?" Tony shrugs his shoulders, his smile widens, "my knowledge is enlightened."

"Then enlighten me," The lawyer states, "Take me back to what happened. Every detail you recall will help when this goes to trial next week."

"Excuse me, I'm confused. What are we being charged with exactly?"

"Just tell me what happened Agent DiNozzo."

"I don't know what offenses I'm up against..."

The lawyer sighs, "Revealing details about this case does not assist you or your colleagues," There is a short pause, "I would rather we move to what happened." The answer didn't satisfy Tony. His desire to know why he was sitting in this office had grown, but instead of pushing it any farther as he usually did, he remained silent. The lawyer smiles, "Why don't you start with the Hashan Raphael case?"

Tony stares at the lawyer, "Yes, that case. I guess I'd have to revisit it eventually." As Tony started to revealthe details of the case, the lawyer started to record and type his words. All the while finally putting the pieces together.

* * *

><p><strong>One and a Half Years Previous<strong>

The early morning hit NCIS main office building hard; or at least, Special Agent Anthony Dinozzo thought so as he left the elevator and walked on to his floor. The usual phones are ringing randomly from different sections of the floor; it was the only noise vacating besides his own footsteps. It was true a lot of people didn't like mornings, in fact it was why the office often smelt of coffee until lunch time. So it doesn't surprise Tony to see the usual coffee cups on the desks as he glances around; the usual scent drifting to his nostrils.

But what was abnormal was the empty bullpen. He stops as he steps into the outer part, frowning slightly, "Okay…" Of course the order in which people would arrive was always random, but sometimes Pammie would arrive first if not much earlier than the rest. And yet this was normally predictable, Gibbs coming in and barking orders at the new Probie about some sort of paperwork related incident a week or two before, Pammie keeping late hours and early mornings to finish whatever she neglected...again. Slurring her words, glaring at Tony as he poked fun at her state of mind...or growling at his impractical jokes.

Then there was the empty desk to his right; but what was tempting was NOT JUST the lack body in the space, but the unharmed keyboard. It is the empty desk chair in which McGee would sit, tapping away at his computer or glancing over his shoulder. Now it was Tony's turn to glance over his shoulder. Dropping his bag at his desk, Tony glances around, then laughs and snaps a body of super glue off his desk, "You're mine McGee." This was going to be fun...plastering super glue all over the geeks keyboard, and watching him as he struggled to get his hands free, "Time for some fun!" There was no particular reason for this...honestly it had been way too long since his last attack on the McGanster. Tony approaches the keyboard and eagerly squeezes the super glue on to it, being careful not to get any of it on to his clothes. Changing didn't seem like a good idea, not after Tony had taken longer than normal to pick out his outfit. It wasn't his fault. He wasn't aware that a truck was going to splash mud all over his suit twice.

"And that…" Tony says to himself, holding the now half empty bottle of super glue in his hand, "...is how you pull off a successful prank."

He turns so he faces the empty desks on the other side of the bullpen, bowing as if an audience of a thousand are watching him at that moment, "Thank you! Thank you! I'm here all week." Now he felt like celebrating. Tony quickly enters his desk corner, smiling and mentally patting himself on the back.

"Got the prank itch Tony?" A voice pipes up. Tony looks in the direction the voice came from, and stares at a slightly plump, red haired female with a small face and thin arms. A purple top with bling along the collar extends to her waist, met by a black band attached to her black pants that extend down her leg to her ankles. On her feet are a pair of black, short height high heels. On her shoulder is her black backpack.

Tony smiles, dramatically seating himself on to his seat and lifting his legs so his feet are comfortably on his desk. He leans back, folding his hands so they support the back of his head, "You need to understand Probie 2 that the prank itch, if it did exist, only applies to amateur pranksters-"

Pammie rolls her eyes, "Tony. You aren't a prank master, you're-?" The woman plunks her backpack on the ground beside her desk and takes a seat in her chair.

"Excuse me Probie, are you interrupting me?" He frowns, "Are you aware of the phrase 'Do not speak unless spoken to?' "

Pammie frowns, "But you just-"

Tony laughs loudly, gesturing for Pammie to remain silent, "Be a good Probie. Like I was saying before you…" He glares, "...very rudely interrupted the Senior Agent, IF this prank itch did exist which I'm not saying it does because it doesn't," He adds quickly, "but IF it existed, I wouldn't need such a amateur feeling to pull a successful prank." The usual routine was already starting. Pammie was beginning to tap away at her computer keyboard, while trying to multi-task as Tony continued to babble about the art of pranks, "The king of pranks and entertainment does not need that to do something so...amazing…"

"What's so amazing about a stupid prank?" Pammie asks. She looks over at Tony for a moment, then towards the empty desk beside him.

"Stupid prank?" Tony exclaims in disbelief, "pranks are an important part of our culture. Comedians for example, funny guys. Very educated background in humor...or the class clown. A stereotype in the high school classrooms."

"Comedians tell jokes Tony," Pammie argues, "I wouldn't categorize them as class clowns."

"Then open your eyes Probie, because you're about to witness the top class clown/comedian prank of all time."

Pammie rolls her eyes, whether she was actually interested didn't matter to Tony. He was looking forward to McGee walking in any moment. With that backpack on his back.

Almost on cue, the elevator door opens and McGee walks in. Tony couldn't tell if he was in a good mood as he walked passed his desk and took a seat at his own. He glances at the keyboard, his small frown deepening, but after a moment shrugs his shoulders and places his hands on the keyboard. "You super glued my keyboard!" McGee exclaims after attempting to use the keyboard. He gets up, the keyboard sticking to his fingers as he lifts them into the air.

"And so I did," Tony smirks.

McGee glares.

"You should have seen it coming McGee," Gibbs walks quickly from the direction of the elevator into the bullpen carrying his usual Starbucks coffee, "Gear up. We got a dead ex-marine at the park." Everyone begins to quickly stand, except McGee. He glares at Tony one last time, and then attempts to free his fingers. Gibbs tosses him a bottle.

"I thought we didn't handle dead ex-marines, boss..."

"We're handling this one."

"Have fun getting yourself free McGeek," Tony laughs, unaware that Gibbs had approached him as he left his desk. He flinches when a hand makes impact with the back of his head, "Ouch boss! What was that for?"

"Pranking McGee."

Tony touches the spot where Gibbs hand made contact with his head and winces; it didn't hurt that bad...but it still hurt. He was use to it by now, it was practically tradition to have Gibbs hit him on the back of the head at least once a day. It was part of the routine.

Just the usual day at work.

* * *

><p>"No ID boss," McGee says quickly. The fresh smell lingers around them, Tony smiles at the memories it brings, "no footprints either. Rain must have washed them away."<p>

"I see that McGee."

"The jogger says she found him his way," McGee gestures towards the body. From his ankle, he is hung to the a high tree branch, "hung upside down and...completely naked."

Tony laughs, holding the camera by his face, "In the nude." Gibbs turns to the Special Agent, and Tony could see that look in his eye, "Sorry boss."

"Wanna tell me something useful, DiNozzo?"

The usual routine, "The only significant thing so far is this odd tattoo on his left butt-cheek," Tony states, "its an odd shape. Like a bunch of swirls or something,"

"And it looks like his fingers have been cut off," McGee adds, seeing only bloody stumps on the mans hands, "his face is pretty bashed in."

"Trying to make it hard to identify him," Gibbs comments.

From the corner of his eye, Tony spot a familiar figure approaching them from the ambulance truck. He wore glasses and a hat over his grey hair. "I'm sorry we're late," Ducky exclaims, coming from the road where the vehicles are parked.. Palmer is on his tail, pushing a gurney and awkwardly trying not to step in any deep mud spots, "Palmer had a difficult time navigating through the extensive traffic."

"Its hard with all the traffic during rush hour and…" Palmer looks at Gibbs, "...sorry."

"Good heavens," Ducky says once reaching Gibbs by the tree trunk, "this is going to be a nuisance to get down."

"Already working on it Duck," Gibbs says, "should be down in a few."

"The murderer must be strong," Tony states as Gibbs walks away, "i mean, hanging a man this big on a tree branch that far up. He must be superman."

"Last I checked superman didn't kill people, Tony."

"It's an illustration Probie."

"And a pretty bad one," McGee approaches the body, but keeping away from it.

Pammie appears beside McGee, "The jogger is a dead end. She found the body this morning but didn't recognize him."

"What about the locals?" McGee asks.

"Nope. Not one person knows this man…" Tony shuffles in front of her suddenly, blocking her view of the body, "What are you doing?"

"We don't want your innocence scarred for life at the sight of a nude man,"

"Relax," Pammie pushes Tony out of the way, "I've seen a naked man before."

"Really?" Tony inquires, following Pammie as she went around the body and started staring at the tattoo, "may I ask how-?"

"No you may not," She says quietly, glaring, "I've seen this before," Pammie gets closer to the tattoo, "I just don't remember where."

"What?"

"This tattoo," She slowly observes the lines, "its familiar."

"Watch out below!" Someone exclaims from the tree's, "alright, lower the body slowly."

The three NCIS agents move from under the tree into the open space and back away far enough to be out of the way of the body.

"Careful…" Someone says.

Suddenly, the body falls quickly, crashing against the ground face first. Everyone jumps, Tony and McGee backing up quickly while Pammie's eyes widen. There is silence for a moment.

"Well, that adds a level of difficulty into my examination." Ducky says, glancing at Palmer.


	3. Ghost

**Authors Note:** I don't update this story often, though people believe that my knowledge in NCIS's characters is adequate, I am still cautious before I write something. Plus I started a writing course. I have to critique other writing pieces and write my own. I've decided to remove the McAbby pairing. I love their relationship as it is, and I don't want to tamper with it in any way. HOWEVER that doesn't mean I'm letting McGee stay single in this story ;) I thank those reviewing my story, I LIVE off of reviews. The more reviews, the happier I am and the more motivated I am to write! Please continue to review! :)

[**DECEPTION IS THY NAME]**  
><strong>Chapter 2 - Ghost<strong>

**NCIS Building**

"Update," Gibbs insists several hours later as the early stretch of the evening began. He gazes at his computer screen, but when no one says anything, he looks at his team,"Well?"

"No luck boss," McGee answers. Goody two shoe...Tony wanted to drill a hole through the back of his head, "we've covered every department within a twenty mile radius of the crime scene. No one sells the rope."

"Its the only lead we had," Pammie states, "we couldn't find the victims belongings, including his socks. The rain washed away most of the crime scene," She pauses, crossing her arms over her chest "I'm still certain I've seen that tatoo on our victims body before...if only I could remember where…"

"What do we do now boss?" McGee asks, "we don't have anymore leads. Not until Ducky gets an ID. Or Abby finishes her skin analysis."

"Go home," Vance interrupts from outside the bullpen, "there's nothing you can do here. We're not paying you to sit around."

Everyone goes silent, Gibbs stares at Vance for a moment. It was like one of those old fashioned western showdowns, and it brought a smile to Tony's lips, "Go home."

McGee frowns, "But boss-"

"I'll call when Ducky ID's the body," Tony could sense Gibbs hesitation and annoyance. "Go home. Get some sleep. We'll start up in the morning." Tony and McGee exchange glances. This was odd. Gibbs agreeing to send his team home when some work still had to be done...even if they couldn't figure out what it was at the moment.

They gather their things and walk towards the elevator, "Since when has director Vance wanted us to leave?" Pammie whispers.

"He's out to get me," Tony glares, "I can tell. That mustache of his is just longing to grab a gun and…"

"The director is not out to get you, Tony" McGee replies, "he's probably upset about the budget cuts."

Pammie frowns,"Budget cuts?"

"Yup, Budget cuts." Everyone piles into the elevator. Pammie doesn't hesitate to push the ground button.

Tony tilts his head, "And where did you hear this?"

The door closes and the elevator starts descending. McGee frowns,"I'm not telling you."

"Can't or won't."

McGee glares at Tony, "I overheard a conversation."

"A conversation?" Tony smirks.

"In the elevator," McGee looks at Pammie, "apparently someone in the financial department lost some of our money."

"Ouch," Tony pretends to shudder, "I'd hate to be that person right now."

"Did they know who?"

"No," McGee shrugs his shoulders, "but our new computer order was cancelled,"

"What!?" Pammie's eyes widen.

"New computers? Since when were we getting new computers?"

McGee looks at Tony, "Since last week. Didn't you get the email?"

"Well I wouldn't be asking if I did."

Pammie pushes in before McGee can answer, "We were SUPPOSE to get new computers this week. Something about improved software that required more...something, something."

"Gigabytes and Ram. The new software was too much for our current systems, so they were providing us with more efficient computers to improve our work."

"And now its not happening," Pammie mutters, "stupid budget cuts. I was looking forward to a new computer..."

"Faster facial recognition software. Better specs. There were some games too…"

"Games?" Tonys head whips in McGee's direction, "what games?"

"I don't know. Some new mini-games or something…" He frowns, "I thought you didn't like video games."

"YOUR video games. Computer games...are different."

"Different how? And what's wrong with my games?"

"They just are."

"What's wrong with McGee's games?" Pammie pushes. Probably because Tony didn't answer McGee's question before. He had done it on purpose; knowing full well that he had played McGee's games before. A contradiction.

"They're violent."

"So?" She tilts her head.

"So? They're violent. They create violent tendencies."

McGee "Do I look violent to you?"

"Do I look violent?" Pammie repeats..

The elevator halts; doors opening. The three of them walk out of the elevator, "You play violent video games?"

"Yes, I do."

"That explains a lot," Tony murmurs.

Pammie frowns, "What..?"

"Oh look, there's my car. Gotta go, bye!" And Tony runs off before Pammie can think about saying anything else to him.

* * *

><p><strong>The Restaurant<strong>

The long day was finally beginning to hit Tony as he sat at a small table. The other tables in the restaurant are full. For once he wanted to go home, crawling back sounded better than sitting there listening to some woman brag about her personal life. He wore a tuxedo, black stripes with a white shirt and black pants. His outfit was similar to the one he had this morning. The only difference was the whiteout stain he got earlier while attempting to white out a mistake he had made on his report. But he found himself in a chain of misfortunes as a result. His first mistake was deciding that it was too hard and exhausting to reprint his report after discovering he had accidentally misspelled Gibbs name...Gribbs didn't look very appealing. Tonys second mistake was letting his guard down, allowing Pammie to go all crazy on him while he concentrated on getting rid of his mistake with McGee's whiteout. His third mistake...using McGee's whiteout.

He should have seen it coming. Pammie's usual tactics; scaring him randomly as he attempted to prank McGee, messing something up, scheming to make his life miserable. Of course it had almost ruined his evening. His time was strained with an unplanned trip home to quickly change into a new suit...otherwise he would have gone on his date with a random white splotch on his black jacket.

Ziva was different. While she would sometimes ruin his pranks, there were times when she would agree with him...and an the odd occasion when she would attempt to prank him. It was fun, like a game of cat a mouse. Without that, life in the office was difficult at first….all the words of his coworkers spoke did not matter. Over time it got easier, he started finding it easier to listen to everyone as they spoke, words would sink in and not go into one ear and jump out the other. But his heart was still a little empty...like something was missing.

Yet he could sit there on a date. He could glance over the beautiful women in the room. He was able to forget. For now.

"...Tony?"

A voice snaps him out of his train of thought, "What?" The owner of the voice sat across the table, "Oh, sorry. You know restaurants, so much chatter."

She looks at him, "Have you ever been in a relationship? A REAL relationship."

"That depends," He pursed his lips. This topic made him wanna jump out of his his seat and run away...maybe adding in some joke to make things interesting. Instead, he sits there.

"Listening is part of a real relationship," The girl states, flicking her blue hair behind her shoulders, "so I'll talk. You listen," Before he could say anything else, the woman started to babble. At first the words stuck, and he could hear everything she said. But after a while, his mind started to wander again. The words had nothing more than a shallow meaning. Less, even.

His eyes wander towards the other guests. On the far side of the restaurant is an elderly woman with a large hat and glasses. She reminded Tony of the stereotypical old grandmother baking cookies and singing nursery rhymes, he chuckled silently at the thought. His eye caught on to another table closer to where he sat. A young caucasian couple held hands on the table, their mouths didn't move. They stare at each other, mesmerized and not bothering to notice that he was staring at them. Tony rolls his eyes.

But, behind his date, on the other side of the restaurant something caught his eye. He could not see it entirely, the person was sitting with their back to them at a booth. The top of a head belonging to a female was visible. Her hair was wavy, and fell on to either side of her neck. He couldn't see anything else besides the face of the man that sat across from her. The man was tan with black hair and mustache, small eyes and jawbone. The only clothing Tony could see was a black collar that he assumed went with the black tuxedo.

"...you? Tony?"

Tony looks at his date, "Yes."

"Have you ever been in a serious relationship?"

"Can we have the cheque please?" Tony asks the waiter passing by their table. The waiter nods and smiles, "I hope you weren't planning on dessert because I need to go home. Have this big thing planned."

"Answer the question."

She was insistent, but Tony could feel his back tense up at the thought of describing any...serious relationship he had been in, so he ignores her. The waiter passes him the cheque and he throws slaps money on top, "Keep the change." The waiter nods.

"Time to go."

* * *

><p><strong>The Parking Lot<strong>

He rounded the corner, keeping an eye out for any incoming traffic. It is silent in the car, but Tony didn't care. He wanted to go home. He wanted to go to sleep. Tony put more pressure on the gas pedal. Home...the word was a melody to his ear.

"Tony!" His date exclaims, snapping him out of his train of thought...again. Tony slammed on the brakes, his car stopping two inches behind another, and he groaned in frustration, "Really? C'mon!"

"Don't act like that Tony," The woman in the passenger seat whines, "take me home."

"What a good idea," Tony replies sarcastically, "...oh wait, I can't because we're stuck in a traffic jam."

"Okay, okay. You don't have to be sarcastic," The woman looks out her window, "what in the world is that person doing?"

Tony follows her gaze towards a small, blue car a few cars away from them. Despite the traffic, it was trying to maneuver around the cars and push its way towards the front, "I don't know. Maybe they're having some temperamental issues." Car honks echo in the night,

"As long as they don't come over here..." His date states, staring at her reflection in her pocket mirror.

He took his focus away from the deranged driver. It didn't matter that much to him, at leat enough to keep his mind away from going to sleep. A bed would be nice; falling on top of it and instantly falling into a deep slumber seems so far away. His limbs were like lead already.

"Careful!" Tony's date exclaims. He turns his gaze, staring at the vehicle beside him...that use to be several cars away. The blue vehicle was now beside them, trying to get in between him and the car in front. But Tony wouldn't allow it. He grinds his teeth and hit some of acceleration quickly, releasing not too long after to avoid hitting the car ahead of them as the traffic pulled forward.

But the car did the same. Tony glares, "Its war." He tightened his grip around the steering wheel, and didn't take his gaze away from the blue car, "You ain't getting past me," Tony turns to his date, "Fasten your seatbelts. Its going to be a bumpy night," Silence, "Bette Davis and Anne Baxter? All About Eve?"

"Don't care."

"Well aren't you a little ray of sunshine."

Suddenly something caught his eye. He glances back at the car and frowns, there was something familiar about the driver in the driver seat...it was the woman from the restaurant. She still looked familiar, but the slight tint in the window made it impossible to see anything past the outline of her figure. Tony couldn't pinpoint what it was, maybe the way the person sat...or the outline of their face, top of their head. Before he could pinpoint why the driver looked so familiar, the car had pulled in front of him and left the parking lot of the restaurant.


End file.
